


A Dream Drenched in Curses

by CelestialSpeck



Category: OMORI (Video Game), 呪術廻戦 | Jujutsu Kaisen (Anime), 呪術廻戦 | Jujutsu Kaisen (Manga)
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe, Crossover, Depression, Drama, Eventual Romance, F/M, Shounen, Suicidal Thoughts, Supernatural Elements
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-01
Updated: 2021-03-03
Packaged: 2021-03-14 08:42:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,127
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29789346
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CelestialSpeck/pseuds/CelestialSpeck
Summary: The Fujimoto Clan wasn't a special or important clan in the story of Jujutsu Practitioners. They came and disappeared in the waves of Japanese stories like many before them.By all means, while surprising, a descendant being born and inheriting his clan's old curses shouldn't have been important. He was no Sukuna Vessel. He was no Zenin Clan member. He was no Satoru. He was no Sorcerer.But even so, the Satoru Gojo saw something in the eyes of the boy who inherited his ancestor's curses, and it made him smile.
Relationships: Aubrey/Sunny (OMORI)
Comments: 19
Kudos: 55





	1. Prologue: In which the Infinite Potential talks about the Endless Dream

_ “A dead clan?” _

_ Somewhere on a little island to the east of the world, where the sun shined first, the Grade One Sorcerer but otherwise normal salaryman known as Kento Nanami spoke to the strongest but otherwise normal little shit known as Gojo Satoru in a small cafe somewhere in the shining metropolis filled with Japanese culture that was Tokyo. The evenings gave him enough time to rest from his slightly less idiotic job as a Jujutsu Sorcerer, but sometimes, even things like these were often interrupted by the pompous white-haired annoyance that was the ‘strongest.’ _

_ “What? Don’t tell me you haven’t heard of the concept of it, Nanami-kun?” Sitting with both of his legs crossed atop his chair in an annoying display of his sincere and easygoing attitude, Gojo let out a small mock sigh from his mouth. “Tsk tsk, and here I thought you were pretty smart!”  _

_ The hand of the blonde-haired man went forwards to grab his coffee, and for a moment, he considered throwing the contents inside towards the face of the other in front of him. But they were both A: In public, and B: Even if Gojo couldn’t logically use his Infinity to stop it for obvious reasons, attracting attention to himself is the last thing he wants to at this moment. It’s meant to be his rest time right now.  _

_ Instead, it simply grabbed the small cup and brought it towards his lips. Lukewarm. Bleh. _

_ “You don’t even need to be an expert to know what it implies,” Nanami replied, shaking his head slightly. “A dead clan is a clan that doesn’t exist anymore. Either by being wiped out or simply not having any descendants.” There was a mild pause to his train of thought as he took another sip from his coffee. “But from what I’m guessing, this one you’re talking about isn’t dead at all?” _

_ “Well, no, but at the same time, yes!” Clapping his hands together, Gojo’s jovial voice became an almost lecturing one. Nanami sighed. He’s not your student, dumbass. “You see, a clan doesn’t necessarily need to die because of a lack of physical descendants. They can also die due to a lack of descendants with  _ _ talent. _ _ ” _

_ “Mmm.”  _

_ “That was the fate of the Fujimoto clan, you see!” Nanami rolled his eyes behind his goggles. Fujimoto was such a common surname. “See, they were a humble little clan of sorcerers who lived aroooound the Meiji era. Their specialty was enchantments involving one’s dreams, and they were pretty good at Domain Expansions too. Spooky combination, right?” Nanami wanted to say something about how that didn’t say anything, but Gojo’s index finger raising up interrupted him.  _

_ “Problem was, with those pesky lil’ rascals from America coming over, and just not being that big of a clan, they started to struggle when it came to members with potential. Problems with the bloodline being clean, among some other little Somethings, and in the end, most moved on to America, and nobody ever heard of them again.”  _

_ There was a mild silence that made Nanami unsure of what to do. Gojo treated this like it was some sort of campsite horror story and he wasn’t sure how he wanted him to react- so he didn’t. And so, there was just a long silence between sorcerer to Sorcerer, before Nanami turned his attention back to his coffee, drinking it.  _

_ “Na~na~mi. Aren’t you going to ask what came next?”  _

_ “Not really,” There wasn’t even anything he could think that could even happen next, but deep in his mind, Nanami had a feeling of what it could be. “I don’t see how this involves me, either.”  _

_ “Well I’m glad you asked!” He didn’t. “You see, after three hundred years, the Fujimoto clan finally got a descendant that possesses potential! If they weren’t dead, of course.”  _

_ There it was. Nanami sighed, he could see where this was heading towards a mile away. He was already prepared to say no, but, just this once, he decided to humor Gojo. Maybe, just maybe, he wouldn’t ask what he thinks he would ask, and maybe, just maybe, this would just be some ‘gossip.’  _

_ “That person being?” _

_ Gojo’s grin subsided for a moment, and a small smile soon presented itself to the white-haired man’s face.  _

_ “Sunny Millers, sixteen-year-old ex-hikkikomori and inheritor of the Red Hands Cursed Technique.” _

* * *

In his dreams, Sunny shifted uncomfortably under an invisible weight that was born from his stomach and made its way all up towards his head. 

In the darkness of night in the city of Tokyo, an equally uncomfortable visage stood sitting atop the forgettable apartment complex where the boy who once was plagued by his own curses slept. 

He had monochrome skin complimented with his dark hair and endlessly empty eyes. In his hands, a knife stood, red in its composition, yet no manner of blood or heat came from it. Its reflection showed his face, belonging to the same one currently dreaming, alongside a single wavering and constantly  _ blinking  _ white eye staring at him. 

Crickets reigned as the only source of sound alongside the distant yet awfully close city life before without any sort of ritual or extra action, the inhumane reflection of Sunny Millers disappeared like dispersing mist. 

In Sunny’s dreams, OMORI thought that the real moon looked pretty. 


	2. Something Cursed Behind Everyone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It turns out, even hallucinations can bleed.

Tokyo always felt very loud to Sunny. The streets of the capital of Japan were always something he occasionally saw online. Big, wide, and full of light, either be it day or night.  _ Principally  _ night. Despite the moon taking a hold on the city, unlike Faraway, it never seemed like Tokyo slowed down. During the day, he could see students going towards one of the many schools in the city, passing near the neighborhood of his apartment. During the night, he could hear cars going through the streets even then, business exiting late work hours, tired and overworked. 

He didn’t really like it. He liked the silence of Faraway. He liked being able to hear the crickets at night, letting their presence be known somewhere nearby but still far away from Sunny’s reach. And most importantly, he liked being able to  _ sleep. _

Even now, in the late afternoon, with the sun blocked out in the sky by heavy clouds on a Saturday that normally would mean Sunny would have nothing better to do, the streets felt awfully crowded to someone like him. He had always been a quiet kid who liked music and wasn’t very outspoken. When they had moved here, he thinks it was the most stressful he had ever been in the last few months, not just because of the distance he was from his friends, but from all the noise. 

A small coin was pushed from his hands into a red machine near a small shop and he didn’t try to think about it as the small click from the automatic dispenser of drinks and sweets announced that it successfully dropped his soda. He was snapped out of his thoughts, suddenly reaching down towards it, a small  _ *tsss* _ being heard as he opened the small drink. 

His mother had ‘tasked’ him with exploring the neighborhood. Ever since his encounter prior to moving in with Basil and the rest of his friends, a lot of things changed, some too quickly, and some awfully slowly, and Sunny finally seemed to realize how far he was going to be from everyone, and his mother realized that maybe her son needed help beyond caring for him by herself. It put a real wrench in things that really made him wish he could have changed things just a bit earlier. Just so he could stay in Faraway. 

“...Overly sweet.” 

The image on the little tin can he held depicted a humanoid, orange man in front of the logo, holding a smaller image of the can in his hands, symbols reading ‘ORANGE JOE’ in front of it. 

Sunny threw the can into the bin. It wasn’t even halfway done. 

His hands went towards his pockets, perhaps a bit uncharacteristically. Normally he was fine having his limp hands hanging from side to side on his body, but it was still a damp, rainy day, and the pockets of his jacket always felt so warm and comfortable to rest his hands on. It was almost as if he could forget the nature of those hands for a second. 

The puddles he walked atop of reverberated with splashing sounds, small waves breaking the reflections of the world above them and Sunny himself. Sometimes, when he looked in the mirror, he could occasionally see a few shapes behind him still. Sometimes they belonged to Something unidentifiable, other times they belonged to his dear older sister, and other times, they belonged to wide and bloated creatures, unlike anything he could have ever manufactured on his mind.

Right now, he could see one of them. They were small, smaller than his head, even. It had roughly the shape of an ant, but it had small wings that could have belonged to a month. Its two antennae-like eyes were human, just like the teeth that adorned its mouth, giving off an unfeeling grin towards him. 

He had started seeing more and more of those things ever since he reached Tokyo. At first, he figured it for just stress-filled hallucinations from being so far from home, but he couldn’t for the life of him figure out what they meant. Even the shape of some...thing held some manner of meaning. These things almost looked like random animals mixed together. 

He didn’t like the sight of them very much. Some were way bigger- thankfully ignoring him if he didn’t pay them mind, but occasionally, he could catch a glimpse of some of them staring at him for a few moments, before silently disappearing into the crowded streets. 

“ Ke-ke-ke. ”

Some laughed like that in a ridiculous manner, almost reminding himself of certain entities living at the depths of his mind, while others let out low rumbles, like cars or sometimes even distorted voices of people he didn’t know. Once it stressed him out, but at some point, the sight of these things was so common that he started to ignore them. 

The creature hopped about in the puddles, looking at passerby by passerby, eyes wide with glee and teeth shining with some sort of mock comedy only it understood. Sometimes, it tried to throw itself at the legs of others, desperately trying to climb itself up, only to fall down soon after. Sunny would almost feel bad for it if the strange creature probably was real. 

Almost. 

For a moment, it stopped. And it took its moment to stare at Sunny. Its wings fluttered, and Sunny could see the reflection of what appeared to be water droplets on it, to real and too shiny to feel fake like the non-wet water from his dreams that he once feared. It shared a look with the boy for a few, long moments, expression unchanging, unwavering, almost as if in momentary shock that he could see it. 

Its expression, so nearly humane but not quite so despite its chimera-like body, then slowly started to shift, and a part inside Sunny’s mind told him that he was doing the opposite of ignoring it. 

Yet instead of shifting into something darker, something to haunt him like his nightmares did many times before, it shifted an expression that was very familiar to Sunny. So much so that it would’ve been both surprising and ironically enough,  _ haunting _ if it weren’t for his foot automatically raising itself.

Before Sunny squashed the creature, he could have sworn it was  **_scared._ **

_ Crunch _ . 

Just like that, the small hallucination became nothing but purple blood under his shoe. The liquid beneath him slowly disappearing from sight like water evaporating under the light of the sun, and for a moment, Sunny’s heart skipped a beat as he felt the texture and the weight of it being smashed under his foot like it was nothing. 

It crunched. Hallucinations didn’t crunch. Hallucinations didn’t feel real. Hallucinations didn’t bleed like that. He blinked once, twice- looking over to his surroundings. People were looking at him, but not enough to stare at him or call his attention, and they all had features instead of the shapeless shadows he sees in his dreams. 

His breath faltered for a moment. Fuck. 

Sunny raised his foot once more, and unsurprisingly, nothing was there. And further confusion and fear fell onto his mind. Hallucinations weren’t real, he long taught himself. There was nothing behind him nor Basil that wanted to push or shove him down incredible weights, there was no unhinged Mari behind the door of his home wanting him to open his door. When he first learned to accept that, they slowly started to disappear. Some still remained, yet with the truth of his actions out, their presence was a rarity in his life. 

So confronting them like he did many times before just felt natural, but  _ this? _

This felt too real. Too close to reality- and worst yet, he knew he wasn’t just dreaming anymore. 

“Excuse me.” 

— And just like that, his thoughts were stolen once again.  _ Thank god.  _

Sunny’s eyes quickly but silently looked to the side towards the direction of the voice, mild relief with heavy hints of confusion still there, but he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t glad he could be focusing on something else that wasn’t the situation that occurred a few moments ago. 

The voice was male and older than him, that much he could gather, and he could understand it clearly despite the midway commotion in the more suburban areas of Tokyo. While Sunny’s first language was undoubtedly English, given his family’s apparent roots learning Japanese was an optional but thankfully life-saving task. He isn’t sure how he’d be able to survive without even being able to understand anyone. 

He had light brown hair and was and ridiculously tall, an odd combination for someone that spoke clear Japanese to him. At least six feet tall, making so Sunny’s diminutive form was ridiculously small compared to his. He wore a white business suit that somehow oddly complimented his sunglasses— the which almost looked like goggles for the bizarre fact they had no arms to them. 

His stoic expression was similar but different to Sunny’s in one clear way: Unlike Sunny, his face almost seemed to imply he was  _ bored.  _

_ “Excuse me,” _ He repeated, this time in English, and Sunny blinked. He didn’t realize he had been staring.  _ “Can you understand me better?” _

“Huh? Ah- no, I can speak Japanese just fine, s-sorry.” 

The man adjusted his tie, letting out a small sigh from his mouth that Sunny couldn’t tell if it was out of relief or out of frustration. 

“Good,” He spoke again, this time his voice not being forced to speak in heavy-accented English he had spoken to Sunny. “This makes things less complicated on my end. It’d be awful if you couldn’t even speak Japanese.” 

Sunny could feel his cheeks heating up slightly in embarrassment. This man’s personality, voice, and size wasn’t exactly what he’d call ‘calming.’ He had a very ‘cool’ air to him, but there was something else to him he couldn’t quite place in words alone. Like some sort of feeling.

“Um, can I help you?” He tentatively asked, hand holding his arm. “I don’t think my mom would like me speaking to strangers.” 

_ ‘...Wow, smooth. What are you, twelve, Sunny?’ _

“My name is Kento Nanami,” He spoke, not moving an inch from where he had first called out to Sunny, almost like he was robotic. “And I’m a Grade One Jujutsu Sorcerer who generally works on Tokyo. I was told to contact and check on you because of your latent Cursed Energy potential.” 

Sunny blinked. 

The words ‘Jujutsu’ and ‘Sorcerer’, while not unfamiliar to Sunny, didn’t exactly hold the same meaning they did to Nanami as they did to Sunny. To the boy, ‘Jujutsu’ sounded something that’d go hand to hand with voodoo and other weird stuff, and Sorcerer...He could only think of men with long white beards and pointy hats. 

“Um…” 

‘Cursed Energy’ though? That sounded like something a con artist would say. Was this some sort of prank he didn’t get or was he misunderstanding what his words meant somehow?

For a moment, he considered how fast he could move to get out of this situation. While his face didn’t exactly show, the memory of him crushing that small what-should-be hallucination was still fresh on his mind. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to deal with a weirdo— 

“That thing you just crushed, you saw it too, didn’t you?”

— He forgot to breathe for a second.  _ What? _

Nanami sighed as he saw the other's expression. Today was going to be such a long day.

* * *

  
  


Nanami had decided that this kid was a walking contraction. 

From what he’s seen and learned so far, Sunny Millers wasn’t exactly anything impressive. In fact, he almost seemed to be below average in every aspect. Carrying himself with awfully short stature and a thin, poorly nourished body and a pale complexion that really did sell him out as an ex-shut in. 

By his side, the kid gently munched on a small onigiri he had just bought to him they sat a respectable distance away at chairs on a small, no-name food store. He ate with silent intensity, seemingly a bit disappointed at the lack of taste of it, but still enjoying it. 

Normally, Nanami wouldn’t have used his own money to pay for another person’s food, but circumstances were a bit different. 

A small memory flashed to his mind— Gojo describing this kid was something he made sure to remember.

‘ _ 16 years old. He’s an ex-hikkomori who just came out and started to reintegrate himself into society after his sister’s apparent suicide four years ago. There are no reports, but if I had to guess, he started to manifest his Cursed Energy on large amounts during that time…’  _

Nanami had never been someone who experienced heavy loss before, but he knew just like any other Jujutsu Sorcerer that uncontrolled trauma and grief and latent talent with Cursed Energy, something born from negative emotions, collective or otherwise combined with family inherited abilities generally were a poor match for any type of kid. He couldn’t begin to know anything aside from a surface-level knowledge, but he could, at least, sympathize with him on a normal human level. 

_ ‘Besides,’ _ he thought to himself, allowing himself to look at Sunny with the edge of his eyes, who was just finishing his meal.  _ ‘Stressing someone with this amount of Cursed Energy wouldn’t be a good idea.’  _

Deep within Sunny, something burned within him. Something that only became visible when he dreamed, but strong individuals like Nanami could still see. Something blue and dark born from his mind yet that started out from his stomach and into the rest of his body like some sort of growing sadness that was almost constant, and certainly was much larger in the past. 

The levels of Cursed Energy he had were simply impressive, even Nanami had to admit that. But it was untouched, unrefined, and it seemed weaker than what he was previously told, thankfully making its manifestation rarer. No doubt that in the past, when Sunny still was inside his own room, the manifestation of which was much stronger. 

“Mr. Nanami?” 

His voice brought Nanami’s attention back at him. Right.

“Mmm.” 

“Thanks for the food, but I’m not sure if I...understand-” Or buy, he very clearly was having a harder time buying this even now. “-the entire deal with ‘Cursed Spirits’ or ‘Cursed Energy.’ “ 

There was a mild pause as Sunny considered his next words, no doubt choosing the less rude ones despite his already blunt and stoic tone. “It seems a bit ridiculous to me.” 

Nanami’s sigh was evident that he agreed with Sunny deep down that yes, this was ridiculous. He didn’t exactly want to be here, but he knew that if he didn’t, Gojo would keep bothering him until the end of his days about it. Besides, even he knew it was not a good idea to leave a kid with a talent to Cursed Energy alone for too long in Tokyo of all places.

“I’m not asking you to believe me,” Adjusting his glasses, he kept looking forward. The city was slightly less busy today. “I’m just doing what I was told to do. You have talent, and talent left alone can be dangerous or abused.” 

There was a certain irony to his words that he was aware of even before he said them. Sunny could feel it, too. 

“Okay.” The other spoke, silently fidgeting with his fingers. “But if I do  _ have  _ this...Cursed Energy stuff, or this ‘talent’...What does it mean? Do I have to get it out? Are...Are there rules for this sort of thing?” 

“You’d be surprised.” Rubbing the back of his head, the Jujutsu Sorcerer kept on. “For situations like you, you’d normally be given the option to join a school specialized for both Jujutsu training and normal studies, or you could deny, and have you and your family be watched if you are deemed sufficiently important.” 

The other was leaving a lot of detail out, and Sunny couldn’t place his finger on whether there was a lot to go over and Nanami needed to skim over it, or because this entire thing was some elaborate lie or prank to make him buy a shady product. 

He  _ did  _ look like the businessman type, after all. But he still was able to see the same things he did in perfect detail.

“I, um, don’t go to school.” He didn’t for four years. “But...But I was planning on returning to it. Eventually.” More his mother than himself, but he just couldn’t logically stay this behind on everyone forever. 

Nanami didn’t say any words, and instead just pulled out a small note from his pocket. Not a business card or anything, just a number. Sunny had a feeling that most businessmen were a bit more formal and educated than this when presenting what was probably their work numbers. Somehow, the other’s sheer casualness and even hesitance in doing so made it a little more believable. 

“Your number?” 

“Yes,” Nanami replied, soon getting up from his chair, showing just how tall he has compared to Sunny again. Not even Hero was still tall. (Or buff. He doesn’t think most businessmen are this buff) “You’re free to call me if you decide you want to pursue this career. Or just learn more about it.”

Looking at his watch, he grumbled something. It reminded Sunny of his dad when he was still around, constantly frustrated and angry with his work. 

The Jujutsu Sorcerer looked back at him, before he spoke again. And those words somehow engrained themselves on his mind, and didn’t disappear for a long, long while. 

“Be careful, Millers. The work of a Jujutsu Sorcerer is something you won’t be able to back away from. I’d recommend you throwing my number on a trashcan and pretend you never saw me.” 

And just like that, he left. And Sunny could only watch dumbfoundedly for a few seconds, before Nanami’s form disappeared into the sea of crowds belonging to Tokyo.

There was no manipulation on his words, no lies, no hiccups.

He wasn’t sure if it was out of some sense of trust given that he could see the same ‘Cursed Spirits’ as he could, but Sunny didn’t sense any dishonesty in Nanami's words. He seriously told him to go home and pretend nothing happened despite approaching him in this situation. 

For a moment, Sunny only looked at the paper on his hands. It was slightly crumbled and it was clear the other didn’t do a very good job at taking care of it. Right next to him was a trashcan within arm’s reach, telling him to do as the older adult asked, saying very logical things about how ‘Curses’ and ‘Sorcerers’ and the like were all something straight from a dream, and this would just end up being some odd story to tell others in the future. 

But something else in his mind told him that there was something a bit more there. Something that wasn’t logical and probably shouldn’t be heard. Saying that he should accept it. 

Getting up from his seat, Sunny put the small paper on his pockets, deciding to listen to neither. 

He decided he’ll think about it. 

Somewhere back in Faraway, a dead girl connected to Sunny’s heart smiled, and prayed for her brother. 

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Is this a really weird and wacky crossover choice? Absolutely. Am I probably going to skewer things on both franchises to ensure things make sense? Probably. Do I have no self-control, and really shouldn't be adding ships in these sorts of fics? That too. 
> 
> This is arguably more of an experiment than anything since this is my first time writing a genuine, legitimate crossover like this. Jujutsu Kaisen and Omori have a lot of things in not-common, having two very distinct and different tones, but I wanted to see how I could explore both universes and make a story that makes sense and isn't spitting on either franchise. So, bear with my incredibly inconsistent posting schedule, and if possible, feel free to enjoy this.


End file.
